


Influence of Time

by Cateyes1401, SkylaDoragono



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Gen, Good job breaking it heroes, Skywalker Family Drama, Skywalker Family Feels, Timeline Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2020-09-23 03:23:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20333248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cateyes1401/pseuds/Cateyes1401, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylaDoragono/pseuds/SkylaDoragono
Summary: A freak accident sends Luke, Leia, and Vader splitting off to different points of the galaxy, over twenty years in the past.  While Vader is careful to correct any errors his sudden appearance may cause in the timeline, Luke and Leia are not so cautious.





	1. Chapter 1

Anakin Skywalker did his best to resist the urge to shove the Faustian scientist in his custody, but he failed miserably, well aware of the disapproving look his master was giving the back of his head as the man was sent stumbling into the transport ship. Really, Obi-Wan could not blame him for this; the “good” doctor had been manufacturing the Blue Shadow Virus, a disease so deadly it had been permanently eradicated from the galaxy before the doctor’s intervention. The man had led them all on a wild mynock chase, but him and his virus were finally contained. Naboo — Padmé’s planet and a precious place for them both — was safe once again.

For all of the two seconds it took him to form that thought.

A piercing  _ screech  _ echoed overhead, and Anakin ducked out of the troop transport just in time to see a starfighter with strange, angled wings streak by above them. He slowly came to Obi-Wan’s side as he watched it disappear into the trees, trying to figure out just  _ what  _ it was; it was too big to be a Vulture droid, yet sort of resembled one at the same time. On top of it, there was a deep, unsettling feeling from the Force trailing behind it, like there was something important on that ship. Something that he was supposed to know…

A loud, echoing crash spurred Anakin from his thoughts, and he glanced at his former master. He did not need words to know Obi-Wan felt the same way, so he merely nodded, turning to one of the clones.

“Make sure the ‘good’ doctor stays comfortable,” he ordered. “We’re going to investigate. The last thing we need is something coming to help Vindi make this situation worse.”

The soldier saluted, and Anakin turned back to Obi-Wan to see a concerned frown on his face as he stroked his beard.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he murmured, and Anakin let out a sigh.

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” he quipped, though he could not disagree with him.

Before long, the two of them were heading deeper into the Gungan swamp, a borrowed speeder for each of them. It was not hard to follow the trail the crashing fighter took, as the signs of it were clearly visible long before they actually found it. Cracked and broken tree branches swayed precariously overhead, and a deep furrow in the ground lead to where the ship ultimately came to a rest. The surrounding wildlife was still eerily silent from the disturbance, and the Force felt like it was screaming in Anakin’s head, warning him that something was  _ wrong. _

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan began, looking like he was the very model of calm, even though he was going for his lightsaber. Anakin found himself already clutching his as he slowly made his way closer to the fighter. The Force felt heavier the closer he got, almost oppressive, but so too did the sense of familiarity increase. Some part of him  _ knew  _ this ship, though he was certain he had never seen it before.

He was close enough now to place a hand on the ship, feeling the warmth of the metal under his hands, familiar with it like he had spent thousands of hours building and tinkering with it. Distantly, he heard Obi-Wan cautioning him again, but he did not listen, coming around to the cockpit viewport. It was near pitch black inside, with only the faint wink of red and green lights piercing the dark.

_ “Anakin!” _

Anakin’s head shot up at Obi-Wan’s warning, in time to see the hatch fly open and something blacker than space shoot up from it. He could not see it that well, the glint of sunlight streaming through the trees making it look like some winged beast. It was coming down on him in the next instant, and Anakin instinctively ignited and raised his lightsaber. Brilliant blue met flaming red, and he realized the creature was a man… and probably the most terrifying Sith Lord he had ever seen. He was like something out of myth, out of stories told to scare unruly younglings, dressed in black armor from head to toe, with a fearsome mask that looked like a death’s head. It actually made Anakin falter in fright, and the man pushed his advantage, forcing him to scramble to keep up with his quick,  _ powerful  _ blows. Even Obi-Wan coming up from behind did little to slow the towering hulk before him, and he soon saw his former master sent flying into a tree head first.

Anakin grit his teeth, determination and worry for Obi-Wan pushing his fear back and propelling him forward to attack. The Sith Lord met him blow for blow with ease, before turning his own attack style against him, hitting his lightsaber so hard it was knocked clear of his hands. Anakin was sent flying backward in the next moment, his head sharply striking a tree, and before he blacked out, he swore he could hear Ahsoka shouting for him.

~.oOOo.~

Kix was starting to get worried; reports were coming in from below that were shouting about the Blue Shadow Virus being loose in the underground facility. They had reason to believe everyone below was exposed, and they had no way to get an antidote — if one even existed. What was worse, they had not heard anything from Generals Kenobi and Skywalker since they went off to investigate that downed fighter. For all Kix knew, the two of them were led below as well, and…

Before the clone trooper could finish that thought, the sound of a speeder approaching reached his ears. It was only one, however, and the black cloaked… man that rode into view a moment later was definitely  _ not  _ Skywalker or Kenobi.

Kix and the other members of the 501st with him trained their blasters on the man as he brought the speeder to a stop. If he was concerned by it, he did not show it, almost casually swinging himself off of the speeder.

“Identify yourself,” Kix ordered, and while he could not see the man’s face through his helmet, he got the distinct impression he was being focused on.

“General Skywalker sent me,” he rumbled after a moment. “I have… experience with the Blue Shadow Virus. I’m transmitting his clearance codes now.”

A moment of silence passed before the HUD in Kix’s helmet lit up with a familiar code. It was General Skywalker’s code all right; the man must have had some kind of comms array in that unsettling helmet of his, much like their buckets did. He noticed the raspy breathing noises coming from him in the next moment; filter output from a ventilator? It sounded nasty, not to mention loud; he could not help but wonder if this man had been injured during the war. If so… just how  _ badly  _ had he been hurt to justify a respirator like that?

“Checks out, sir,” Kix replied, lowering his weapon, the others following suit behind him. “Where is General Kenobi and General Skywalker?”

“They’re… tied up with their own investigation at the moment,” the man replied, almost sounding… amused? “Skywalker saw the wisdom in sending me ahead, due to being familiar with the disease, and its cure.”

The man started forward, pausing just before Kix, and the clone glanced down to see a lightsaber on the man’s belt. Definitely a Jedi then, if he was helping and not killing them, despite how terrifying he looked.

“You are the medic on duty, correct?” the man rumbled after a moment, addressing Kix. “I will require your assistance, as well as a ship; we will not find the cure on this planet.”

Kix saluted in acknowledgement, before motioning him toward one of the smaller transports. He fell in step behind the big man, glancing over at him curiously.

“Sir?” he began. “What might I call you?”

The man paused a moment, as if seriously considering how to answer him.

“...Vader.”

~.oOOo.~

Something had shifted in the Force.

Count Dooku of Sereno had sensed it long before he heard the sound of a ship coming down for an unplanned landing in the forests outside the mansion he called home. Asajj Ventress had sensed it as well, for she was already well on her way to the crash site long before he could order her to go. He watched her through the Force, sensing her determination, her curiosity, surprise, and amusement. The last one had him frowning, wondering what she could have possibly found to lead to that reaction. Part of him wanted to investigate himself, but even with the Force to support him, he did not have the nimbleness to navigate a path to the downed ship, and his assassin would have easily made three trips to his one.

So Dooku stood on the landing platform, watching the sway of the trees as they slowly settled after the crash, waiting for his apprentice to return. If was a long time before he sensed her approach, and longer still before he saw her, supporting a young man in a garishly bright orange flight suit. An astrodroid rolled along beside him; a very  _ familiar  _ little blue and white R2 unit. The droid let out a rude sounding blat as soon as it saw him, forcing Ventress to come to a stumbling stop as it zipped protectively in front of the boy. It continued to beep up a storm, even as the child stirred, reaching out a shaky hand and resting it on the droid’s dome.

“Artoo… that’s enough…” he said weakly, and Dooku paused, getting a good look at the child. Blue eyes, sandy blonde hair; along with the droid, he would have mistaken the child for Skywalker, but everything else about him was not quite right. His face was too youthful, making him appear younger than Dooku suspected he really was. He was also  _ much  _ shorter, closer to Ventress’ height, and only adding to how young he seemed.

He also had a large gash on his head that was bleeding freely, and as much as Dooku wanted to satiate his curiosity as to who this boy was, it was going to have to wait.

“Ventress, please escort our unexpected guest to the infirmary,” he ordered, before addressing the boy. “You’ve had quite the nasty fall, my young friend.”

The boy spared him a smile that reminded Dooku of someone decidedly  _ not  _ Skywalker, before leaning a little heavier on Ventress, looking like it was taking everything for him to stay conscious. Ventress spared Dooku a glance as she moved past to get the boy inside, and the astromech followed just behind. It beeped harshly at him as it passed, before swiveling its head around, as if turning its “nose” to the air as it continued to roll off.

Dooku did not understand binary that well — he had no need to, seeing as all the droids he dealt with spoke Basic. Still, he understood enough to be troubled by what he heard.

_ You’re not supposed to be alive. _

~.oOOo.~

Days later, Asajj found herself watching over the kid that had come out of nowhere — still. The kid had taken a pretty lengthy dunk in a bacta tank, and had been asleep since coming out, the med droid assuring her that he was just exhausted. It gave her the chance to occasionally sneak out and investigate the remains of his ship, which was just… strange. It resembled the Republic’s ARC-170s, but was different enough that it clearly was not something made in their ship yards, not to mention all the strange symbols on it — mostly insignias she did not recognize. It was disconcerting, but not nearly as much as the fact that he had Skywalker’s droid with him. Last she heard, Skywalker was off on Naboo, and she highly doubted he would lend his droid out to a random nobody in a weird ship. Besides, the way the droid was tirelessly watching over the boy seemed to imply a protective familiarity with him.

“You can stop pacing around, you know,” Asajj remarked idly. “I haven’t been ordered to kill him… yet.”

The droid stopped, letting out a rude noise as he rocked back and forth on his legs, and getting her to raise an amused eyebrow.

“I don’t think  _ you  _ have any right to call  _ me  _ a banshee.”

Another series of rude beeps and blats met that, and he swiveled his head away, as if ignoring her.

_ “You’ve  _ developed quite the attitude,” Asajj commented idly. “Clearly Skywalker has been a terrible influence on you.”

Surprisingly, the droid let out a non-committal beep and fell quiet, its head swiveling toward the boy. Asajj raised an eyebrow, but any comments she had were held back as the boy finally stirred, letting out a groan as he opened his eyes. She felt a gentle brush of the Force as the boy reached up to rub at his face, before he finally turned toward her.

“Where am I?” he asked, as the droid let out a worried whistle.

“Sereno,” Asajj answered, finding no point to lying. “This is Count Dooku’s mansion.”

The boy stared at her, not looking like he understood a word she said, and his confusion was palpable in the Force, like he did not know how to put a cap on his emotions. Slowly, he sat up, looking like he had several questions, and not sure where exactly to start.

“Thank you for saving me,” he ultimately settled with, genuine gratitude reflected in his eyes. The sincerity made an uncomfortable feeling crawl up her spine, and Asajj folded her arms over her chest, letting out a scoff.

“Skywalker’s droid is slacking if you crashed that badly,” she sneered, only to get a rude blat for her trouble. “What are you doing with him, anyway?”

The boy gave her a quizzical look.

“Of… course I have him?” he replied, and the droid let out a warning whistle, trying to get him to stop talking, though it went ignored.

“I’m Luke Skywalker.”

Asajj blinked, staring at him and unable to hide her surprise, before a small, slow smile worked its way onto her face. Oh, she could not  _ wait  _ to tell Dooku…

~.oOOo.~

It was not often that ships crashed on Alderaan, not to mention single fighter craft. They were too far away from the main conflict of the Clone Wars, and too staunch in their peaceful policies to garner attention. Still, with the crash being so close to the palace grounds, Queen Breha made it her personal duty to see that the pilot was safely recovered from the wreckage. She stood off to the side, out of the way of rescue crews, watching as a young woman was pulled free, a massive gash in her helmet. She pulled the headgear free after a moment, revealing the helmet had done its job, but also showing off long brown hair pulled back into tight, Alderaanian-style braids. A golden protocol droid was pulled free next, looking fairly beat up but still functioning, but Breha’s eyes were on the young woman as she stared in disbelief, her eyes widening as they fell on the palace behind them.

“Why, Mistress Leia, I do believe my photoreceptors are malfunctioning,” the droid began, motioning toward the palace. “That appears to be the palace at Aldera. But that certainly can’t be right.”

The young woman shook her head numbly, before she froze, her eyes finally falling on Breha. Recognition and so much more was on her face, and the queen found herself stepping forward without her guards, her gaze on the young woman as she approached. She stopped a comfortable distance from her, noticing tears welling in her eyes, and she doubted very sincerely it was just from the realization she crashed her ship in front of the palace. Something told her this young woman was made of tougher stuff than to be so easily cowed.

“My dear, what is it?” she asked softly, and it seemed the words were enough to make the woman shake. A hand went to her mouth as she clearly fought for words. When she found them, they were not exactly the words she was expecting.

“You’re… you’re really alive, mo—”

She cut herself off, looking away as she struggled to school her expression, but Breha knew well enough what she nearly called her.

_ Mother. _

~.oOOo.~

It was rare now that Bail Organa had the opportunity to go home. Wartime protocols meant the Galactic Senate was near constantly in session, even during seasons it would usually be in recess, and he found fewer and fewer occasions to return to Alderaan, or even see his wife outside of a holocall. Their last communication, however, had been an urgent one, so much so that her question on if he could come home soon was less a hopeful query and more of an order. He had dropped everything, worry as to what could possibly be wrong haunting him as he made arrangements for whatever absence from his duties as senator would result.

Thankfully, it was not a long flight to Alderaan from Coruscant, and Bail was soon hurrying through the halls of the palace. He paused outside one of the balconies that looked out over the mountains, and he could hear a voice he did not recognize recount a story about Alderaan’s ascension ceremony, parts of which had his wife chuckling in amusement. Frowning to himself, Bail knocked politely on the archway frame leading out to the balcony, before stepping foot onto it.

A young woman was seated across from his wife, a cup of tea in hand, her hair done up in braids he had often seen his wife wear when her hair was not covered by ornaments of office. The look of her reminded him distinctly of Padmé, especially as she turned to him, looking at him with vibrant brown eyes. Her expression became pained almost immediately upon seeing him, and she quickly set her cup on the table between them, clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking.

“Forgive me, ladies; am I interrupting?” Bail asked, casting a concerned look at the young woman.

“Not at all, Bail; you’ve been expected,” Breha replied, motioning him toward a chair. “Come, dear; you will need to sit for this.”

Something about the way she said that had Bail even more concerned than he was already, but he dutifully took the offered seat. Breha smiled warmly at him, and it almost dissuaded his worries, before she extended a hand to the young woman.

“Bail, I want you to meet Leia Organa, our future adopted daughter.”

Bail’s mind came to an immediate, shuddering halt. Whatever he had expected, this was certainly not it, and there was a moment where he just stared between the two women, utterly baffled.

“I… I’m sorry?” he croaked out, all eloquence he had in him leaving him for the moment. Fortunately, the young woman seemed to have plenty of her own.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” she replied calmly, settling her clasped hands on her lap. “I myself have no idea how I came to be here, in this time, though considering who I was with, I suspect something of the Force at work.”

Bail could only stare, at a loss for how to respond, with his mind insisting  _ she looks like Padmé  _ rather loudly. But while she had Padmé’s appearance, her face was too different; her expression belonged to someone else, and while it seemed familiar, he could not put his finger on who it reminded him of.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning, Leia,” Breha offered, and Leia took a shaky breath, before nodding.

What followed was a tale too elaborate to be real, but too personal to be anything else. It was a story of an Emperor and his Empire, of Death Stars and the end of Alderaan, and the beginning of a movement that shook worlds, of a galaxy struggling to break free from a massive well of darkness. By the end of it, Bail had stood, pacing the length of the balcony as he tried to think. Part of him wanted to deny that  _ anyone  _ would willingly vote away their freedom for the sake of an all encompassing Empire, but… that  _ was  _ what they were doing. Everyday, they granted the Chancellor more and more power for the sake of wartime emergencies. Every time he claimed he had no desire for such powers, yet he refused to relinquish them once given. “Just in case,” was starting to look like, “I will never,” just from Leia’s words alone.

As much as he wanted to say Leia was crazy… he could not, and understood why his wife could not either.

He finally sat down again and looked at Leia,  _ really  _ looked at her. His adopted daughter that looked so much like Padmé. It made him very worried about what could possibly happen to his friend and colleague in the future that he would need to adopt who was so very clearly  _ her  _ daughter.

“Why tell us all this?” he finally asked. “I don’t know… anything about the Force and time travel, and I doubt the Jedi would even confirm if such an ability was possible. But for all we know, you could be jeopardizing your chance of returning to your own time. Why take that risk?”

Leia focused her gaze on him, and he could easily tell that she was fighting against tears, that it was taking everything in her not to cling to them both and never let them go.

“Because if there is any hope for Alderaan to be saved, I’m willing to take the chance, regardless of the consequences.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long delay since my last update to anything. Life caught up to me rather painfully, and my updates may continue to be slow. Thank you all for your patience!

Kix, like his brothers, was a dedicated trooper, born and bred for the specific purpose of defending the Republic. Though they were all created from the same template, they each had little differences, little quirks of personality that had them stand out from each other. He, for example, had a habit of forming bonds with others, and a strong sense of empathy that made him excel as the team medic.

He was pretty sure all that made him a good medic was working against him at the moment, however.

Vader was like something a soldier would hear about in an exaggerated war story, even for a Jedi. Kix had initially been concerned that they would need to head deep into Separatist space to find what they needed: reeksa root, on one of the moons of Iego. With just the two of them in his general’s personal craft — the only one that had been available for use at the time — there was little hope they would last very long if they were ambushed. There was nothing of the kind waiting for them, thankfully, and while Vader expertly navigated them through the debris field that surrounded the moons, his flying felt erratic and unpredictable, and reminded him of when General Skywalker flew. He supposed it was just the way all Jedi operated a spacecraft.

Landing on Iego had only increased his doubts as to Vader’s capabilities. There was some kind of “ghost” haunting the system, preventing travellers from leaving. Vader had dismissed the notion immediately, informing the natives that the “ghost” was merely an energy field, set up as a security system to prevent anyone from leaving the area.

“Sir,” Kix began once the locals were out of hearing range. “Pardon me for asking, but how can you be sure this ‘ghost’ is a security net?”

Vader paused, canting his head toward him. “I saw the primary node on Milius Prime as we flew in.”

Kix was fairly certain that was a lie, but it was not his place to argue with a superior. Instead, he continued following after Vader, descending below the city they arrived in.

And then he got to see what Vader could  _ do. _

Kix had seen General Skywalker and General Kenobi do some  _ amazing  _ things in his time since joining the 501st. They had  _ nothing  _ on Vader, though; it almost seemed that if he willed it, things would just lay over and die. They had been warned not to touch the plants on the way down — that they did not like it when their vines were touched. That quickly proved impossible to do, not with all the predators and vines  _ everywhere,  _ and they soon found themselves confronted with a  _ very  _ angry plant about to devour them.

Vader, however, did not consider it a threat.

The man never even ignited his lightsaber, instead using the Force to pull the plant straight out of the rocky earth, slamming it back down with enough strength to crack the dry ground. The plant creature slowly started to die at the abuse, vines writhing like tentacles as Vader borrowed Kix’s utility knife, before casually walking up to it and harvesting its roots. Kix himself never even had to lift his blaster through the whole ordeal, and Vader had even encouraged him to stay back so he would not be injured. It reminded him once again of General Skywalker, and he could not help the twinge of admiration.

That admiration turned to outright fanboy-ism when they left the planet, however. Vader went immediately for Milius Prime, ducking and weaving around lines of super conductive energy along the way. Kix clung to his seat the whole time, wide-eyed under his helmet and trying desperately not to be sick. Vader fired once, seemingly at nothing, and the entire area lit up in a crackle of energy that had the clone worried it was going to short out everything on the ship, including whatever electronics were keeping Vader alive. The energy soon dissipated, however, leaving them free to jump to Naboo, and everyone on the system behind them to travel as they normally would.

“Interesting,” Vader murmured once they were in hyperspace, sounding distant, like he was remembering something important. Kix glanced at him, not sure if he should say something, but curiosity quickly got the better of him.

“What is, sir?”

Vader did not even glance his way, staring out into the lines of hyperspace.

“I once compared my wife to the angels of Iego. I said she was as beautiful as they were, but I was wrong. She was more beautiful…”

That was a lot to take in, and questions ran through Kix’s mind like wildfire. Vader had a wife? He thought Jedi were not supposed to marry? And she “was”; was she dead? What happened?

Vader suddenly snapped out of it, turning that terrifying mask on Kix sharply, forcing him to shove his questions to the back of his mind. The Jedi unstrapped himself, standing from his seat.

“Come, trooper; I will show you how to make the antidote.”

~.oOOo.~

Anakin was annoyed.

No, annoyed did not quite cover it well enough, but “pissed off” was not a way a Jedi should ever be described.

He had woken up sometime ago now, and admittedly he was surprised he woke up at all. He thought for sure that the terrifying Sith Lord would have killed him and Obi-Wan when he had them at his mercy. Instead, he had woken to the two of them lashed to a tree, though Obi-Wan had the good fortune of being right side up. All the blood rushing to his head from being upside down for who even knew how long had made it hard for Anakin to concentrate and help get them free, and only fueled his irritation.

Said irritation only got even worse the moment they were finally able to com for help. It took forever to arrive, because apparently the Blue Shadow Virus had broken out below while they were unconscious, and his troops were busily getting the antidote out to those that were stuck down there — including Ahsoka and Padmé. He had to fight against his anger at that — if he had  _ been there  _ and not distracted by a Sith Lord with a sick sense of humor, then they would not have been in trouble in the first place! But that anger quickly dissipated when he found out  _ the Sith Lord  _ had taken one of his troopers to recover the ingredient needed for the antidote.

Why?

The question plagued at Anakin’s mind as he watched Padmé in the troop carrier slowly starting to sit up. She was fine, she was  _ alive,  _ all because the Sith had known about an antidote. But why beat them up, only to borrow Republic troops and save everyone with the antidote? It did not make  _ sense. _

And what was even more annoying, he was not even  _ here  _ anymore. Apparently he had told Kix he was needed elsewhere, and took off in the ship they had used to recover the antidote… which happened to be the  _ Twilight! _

“Are you still griping about the loss of your ship?” Obi-Wan’s voice cut through his irritated thoughts, and he almost jumped, not sensing him coming up beside him.

“What? No, of course not, such attachments are forbidden,” he replied, and he did not need to be looking at Obi-Wan to know he rolled his eyes. The fact that he was still watching Padmé probably made his lie all the more obvious. “Master, I don’t understand; we’re taught that the Sith only destroy. Why did he help us here?”

“I do not know, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied solemnly, and he glanced over at him, easily able to see that the situation was weighing heavily on his mind as well. “Perhaps he does not agree with Dooku’s methods and decided to take action…”

It was a possibility; perhaps Dooku was the real Sith Lord, and the person they confronted was an unruly apprentice. That did not really  _ feel  _ right, though; that man had far too much power to  _ not  _ be a master. If he was working against Dooku, that would imply there were more than two Sith out there.

He really did not want to think about that.

“Well, one good thing came from all this,” he finally said after a moment, getting Obi-Wan to raise an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

Anakin grinned at him, before turning around at the sound of repulsor lifts coming from the swamp. A tow ship was lifting off, the strange ship the Sith had crashed suspended beneath it.

“We have  _ his  _ ship.”

Again, Anakin did not need to be looking at Obi-Wan to know he was rolling his eyes.

~.oOOo.~

The boy was definitely a Skywalker, of that Asajj had  _ no  _ doubt.

He was  _ supposed to  _ be under watch, now that he was awake. Dooku was maintaining his usual friendly facade, taking on the appearance of a wealthy man that just wanted to help. The child had said nothing, graciously accepting the room to recover in and the droid to keep watch “over his needs”. Clearly, he had seen through that, considering he was now wrist deep in the droid’s innards, working on reprogramming it.

“Does that feel any better?” he asked the droid softly, clearly unaware he had already been caught doing something he was not supposed to be.

“Roger, roger,” the B-1 replied. A grin broke out on the boy’s face at the standard response.”

“Maybe I should call you that,” he murmured, before flipping something inside. “Accept designation change: R-Zero-dash-G-R. Long name: Roger.”

Something beeped inside the droid, before he flipped whatever it was back. The droid shook its head back and forth as if clearing it, and Asajj realized the boy had figured out how to put the droid in diagnostic mode all on his own.

Definitely a Skywalker.

She wanted to step out from her hiding place. The boy was clearly a threat that needed to be dealt with; she could beg Dooku for forgiveness for killing him later. Still, something made her stay her hand as the boy closed up the droid, wiping his hands off on a rag.

“Okay, Roger,” he began, plopping down on a chair in the room. “What can you tell me about this place?”

The B-1 droid turned around, offering the boy a salute.

“Sir, this is the mansion of Count Dooku, leader of Serenno and the Separatist movement, and head of the Separatist council.”

“Separatist?” the boy echoed, his eyes widening. “But the Separatists haven’t existed since the Clone Wars.”

The droid paused, and Asajj had to roll her eyes at the inanity of that statement. He talked as if the fighting was all over and done with.

“Sir, it has just been over a year since the war started,” the B-1 — or, R0-GR, she supposed — offered, and the boy looked like he needed to sit down, nevermind that he already was.

“But that’s… that’s twenty-four years ago…” he murmured, before dropping his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes. He looked entirely overwhelmed, and Asajj could not quite blame him. What did he even mean this was all supposed to have been over two decades ago? That did not make sense.

The boy abruptly shot up from his seat, determination on his face.

“I need to talk to my astrodroid, Roger,” he said. “Do you know where Artoo is being held?”

“Yes, sir,” R0-GR replied, bobbing its head. “I can take you to him.”

The boy nodded, and the two of them moved to leave the room. Asajj made her presence known then, igniting a lightsaber and blocking off the exit. Luke immediately put a hand out, pushing R0-GR back and standing in front of it. Foolish, really; droids were replaceable, manufactured by the hundreds. To put a droid’s life before one's own was ludicrous, and she was tempted to expound on his mistake. Instead, she reached out with her other saber hilt, tapping it under his chin then to a cheek, forcing his head to turn as she wanted it.

“Blonde hair, blue eyes…” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “Your face is wrong… almost Nubian-like, if I had to guess. Still, if I gave your face a scar too, I bet it would be hard to tell you two apart.”

Asajj glanced him over; she had not found weapons in his ship or on his person, though that did not mean anything. Desperate people could come up with interesting hiding spots.

“Where’s your lightsaber?” she demanded, not missing it as his right hand clenched into a fist.

“I lost it.”

Asajj let out a snort.  _ Definitely  _ a Skywalker.

She debated a moment, flipping the lightsaber hilt about in her hand a few times, before finally offering it to him.

“Come along, then,” she began. “I want to see what the child of Anakin Skywalker can do.”

He did not try to deny her claim, instead reaching up to accept the weapon, hefting it in his hand as he kept his gaze steady on her. She offered him a bemused smirk, before returning to the outside hall, as there would be more room to fight out there. As she left, she could hear the boy murmur softly to the droid:

“Go find Artoo.”

“Roger, roger.”

She turned as he followed her out, the droid making a quick retreat behind him. Asajj  _ could  _ have just reported in the compromised droid, but she was far more interested in the boy at the moment, watching him as he familiarized himself with the feel of the curved lightsaber’s hilt. He finally activated it after a moment, giving the red blade an almost  _ mournful  _ look, before holding it up, ready to fight… but he was holding it like a traditional blade, awkwardly compensating for the curved hilt.

This would be easy.

She lunged, immediately forcing him on the defensive, and almost laughed as he fumbled to keep his grip on the curved hilt. To his credit, he did not fall over, but he did step awkwardly, leaving him floundering as she attacked again and again. It was almost insulting how poor of a swordsman he was, as if he had never received any kind of training. She almost wished the other Skywalker was here; she would have  _ loved  _ to rub in his face how his impossible future son was  _ weak. _

Asajj shifted, ready to strike a blow that would disarm the boy, perhaps literally; but as she brought her lightsaber down, the one she let him borrow did not behave as expected, instead looping around her blade and shoving  _ up,  _ knocking it from her grasp. She stared at him as the hilt clattered down the hall, dumbfounded as he was mimicking her stance now, lightsaber clutched loosely in one hand, other hand out to the side for balance. He… had just deliberately egged her on so he could observe how to properly hold that style of lightsaber.

“...clever boy,” she said, before shoving herself backward, backflipping down the hall.

She grabbed her lightsaber, activating it in a flourish as she came back up, defending herself as he came at her. Asajj was the one forced on the defensive now, blocking and parrying blow after blow, feeling her hand ache with every hit. He was strong, and it felt more like he was trying to fight someone twice her height and weight. Luke was agile as well, a flurry of blows hitting her blade in rapid succession, but she was decidedly faster. She slipped under one of his attacks, quickly coming back up with her open palm to strike him in the chin. His head jerked back, and a blast from the Force sent him tumbling backward. He landed heavily on his rear, and moved to get back up, only to waver unsteadily; it seemed as if his injuries had not quite healed yet. It did not matter; she was satisfied, and called the other lightsaber to her hand, before clipping both to her belt.

“Mm… not bad,” she murmured, before offering him a hand up. He accepted it without a second thought, holding onto it for a moment once he was back on his feet, as if to help ground him. “I think I might like you.”

The boy paused at that, the faintest hint of a lopsided smile coming to his face.

“Is that a good thing?” he asked, getting her to smirk.

“That depends on who you ask.”

Amusement lit up his eyes, and for a moment it seemed as if he would say something, before he stopped, his expression suddenly pensive. Asajj thought he might be picking up something in the Force that she could not, but then she heard Dooku’s voice filtering from behind a door… along with someone else, someone Dooku had made clear she was not worthy of seeing. Luke did not seem to care, as he immediately started for the door, and Asajj’s surprise kept her from grabbing for him. She scrambled after, reaching him just as he placed a hand on the old-style knob.

“I can’t let you in there,” she hissed, a warning in her voice. He ignored it, shaking his head.

“I know the Emperor’s voice when I hear it,” he said softly. “I need to be sure.”

Emperor?

Asajj’s lips were posed to ask what he meant by that, but he was already opening the door just enough so he could peer inside. Despite herself, she carefully slid under him, angling herself so she could see Dooku kneeling before a holo projector. The image of a robed man was flickering above the unit, stooped with age, his face concealed by a hood. Still, even through a holo image, she could sense  _ power  _ radiating off the man, power enough that looking on him made her feel almost breathless.

“It is not just a surgence of light I sense, my apprentice,” the hooded figure was saying, “but the dark as well. Something  _ powerful  _ has arrived in this galaxy, and I fear it has the power to destroy us.”

“Nothing could destroy you, my master,” Dooku replied placatingly, and Asajj did not miss it when Luke clenched his right hand again. “I will seek out this darkness; we will see if it is truly a threat.”

The man paused, folding his hands, gnarled with age, before him.

“See to it,” he finally ordered. “Ensure whatever it is joins our cause, or dies.”

The holo winked out, and Luke stepped away from the door before he let out a shuddering breath. He looked like he had seen a ghost, and Asajj could tell that thoughts of running were going through his head at the moment.

Before she could say anything, an overwhelming sensation pierced through her. It was cold, like she had just been plunged into arctic waters, yet at the same time it felt like a star went supernova inside of her head. She pressed a hand to her forehead in an effort to make it stop, and in the next moment, she felt someone’s arms around her — Luke had grabbed her to keep her from falling.

“What… what is that?” she muttered, trying to shove him off and pull herself together at the same time and succeeding in doing neither.

“Someone that followed me,” Luke replied, before letting out a frustrated sigh, adding, “Because of course he did.”

He did not seem affected by the presence at all, and a dim part of Asajj realized it was because he was  _ used to it.  _ She shook her head, trying to recover, even as he helped to prop her up against the wall. He pulled away, starting down the hall, when the door burst open. Dooku paused, eyeing her first as if he wanted to demand why she was there, before his gaze flicked over to Luke’s retreating back.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded, his pleasant facade slipping.

“Saving your lives,” Luke replied over his shoulder. “Besides, it’s best for me not to be around someone that would hand me over to Palpatine.”

Dooku froze. So did Asajj, her eyes widening as she stared at the back of her master’s head. Why would Dooku hand anyone over to the chancellor of the Republic? Why would Skywalker’s son seem to consider that a bad thing?

“Why would—?” Dooku began, and that got Luke to stop his brisk walk down the hall, turning toward them.

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “I grew up watching him, every year on my birthday. He wears that same cloak every Empire Day.”

Luke spun back around after that, sprinting down the hall, likely to catch up with his droids. Asajj did not move, her eyes on Dooku as he stood shock still before her, but her thoughts were on everything but him.

_ I know the Emperor’s voice when I hear it. _

Asajj felt something  _ shift  _ in the Force, something she knew instinctively was just for her to feel. It was a shift that was coming far too early, she knew that, but she could not look away from it either. Her life did not lie along the path she was currently on, and while she knew it was in her nature to be dark, following on the boot heels of Dooku and  _ Palpatine  _ would only lead her to ruin.

Quietly, she removed her lightsabers, leaving them behind on a table as she walked away from Dooku.

~.oOOo.~

Luke had to keep reminding himself to keep calm, that anger was the path to the Dark Side and succumbing to it would do him no good. That felt harder to follow in this  _ time period _ than it did back home. The Force felt loud, almost too busy to listen and be listened too, and sometimes it almost hurt to touch it. Yet even still, Darth Vader’s presence managed to cut through all the noise; singing loud and clear as soon as he entered the system.

Of course the Dark Lord ended up here as well, and Luke highly suspected it was  _ his _ fault they were in another time period to begin with. He had been escorting Leia on what was supposed to be an easy flight, following a lead as to Boba Fett’s location. It was an obvious trap; Vader came out of hyperspace just as they did and immediately targeted Leia’s ship. His memory was fuzzy after that; he remembered her shouting that her shields were down and a white light, but not much after that. Even the memory of crashing was a bit hazy, outside of Asajj’s face looking down at him.

With his droids behind him, Luke made his way out to the main landing pad. Other B-1 droids were milling about, taking on rudimentary tasks, and with R0-GR’s help he managed to get them to go inside where it would be safe. The last of them disappeared beyond the door to the mansion just as a boxy freighter came into view, older than core-world dirt even for this time period. A faint part of Luke’s mind wondered where Vader had found  _ that _ heap, but he pushed it aside, steeling himself.

The ship landed, the ramp lowered, and before long Vader walked down it. His rage felt like it was radiating off of him and even R0-GR seemed to feel it, quaking slightly as he half hid behind Luke. Artoo let out a faint, worried warble, but he stood his ground as Vader approached, not flinching even when the dark lord stabbed a finger in his face.

“You are proving yourself troublesome with every meeting, young one,” he accused. The term of endearment  _ did _ get Luke to flinch though; it was too personal and Vader did not deserve to use it.

“It’s not like I  _ planned _ to travel back in time,” Luke replied, still striving for Jedi calm. The heat of his annoyance was still in his voice as he continued. “Even if I am the one responsible for this, you’re the one that prompted this. Where’s Leia?”

Vader seemed to be glaring at him through his mask.”I do not know nor care what became of the princess.”

“Then we have nothing more to discuss.”

Vader took a step back like he had been stung, and Luke could not help but feel a sort of vicious satisfaction at seeing him caught off guard.

“Luke, you cannot stay here.”

He shrugged at that. “Oh? Many former Separatists are a part of the Rebellion. I’m probably in like company.”

“Son—”

_ “No!” _

He said the word with such force that the Force itself backed it up, causing the platform to tremble slightly. R0-GR and R2 both let out worried noises, though the trembling soon settled, and Luke took a deep breath, reaching for calm again.

“You don’t get to call me that,” he forced out through gritted teeth. Vader regarded him silently for a long moment, seeming as if he would ignore him, before acknowledging him with a nod, taking a step back.

“We cannot change the events of the past, Luke,” he continued. “We do not know what it would do to our present.”

“And why wouldn’t you want to change the present?” Luke shot back, though he had calmed enough that the heat left his voice. “Besides, the past is already different just by us being here. The least we could do is try to make things better.”

“We _cannot, _Luke,” Vader hissed, sounding irate, but there was something else there. Luke tried to reach for it, but trying to get a sense of Vader was like trying to bargain with a wall. The fact that _some _sensation got through that wall had him concerned though, and Luke suspected something _may _have already happened.

“Fine,” he relented, giving him a wary look. “But I want to be sure Leia is okay before we do anything.”

Vader shifted in annoyance. “The princess is not Force sensitive. It is unlikely she was affected by what brought us here.”

The Dark Lord turned then, walking up the ramp and clearly expecting Luke to follow. He blew out an annoyed breath, starting up behind him after a moment of hesitation, the droids following just behind.

They all missed the shadow that jumped in after them, making it inside just before the ramp closed.

~.oOOo.~

The halls of the Senate building were entirely different from what Leia remembered. They were brighter, walls lined in soft lavender instead of Imperial grey, with a multitude of different beings representing equally different worlds milling about. Many stopped to talk with her future father, most of them ignoring her presence, giving her the opportunity to quietly observe them. At least, when she was not distracted by the fact that there were no stormtroopers around, with their guns at the ready and ushering senators into sham sessions, uselessly voting on legislation that would ultimately get tossed out if they didn’t align with the Emperor’s desires. It was almost  _ peaceful  _ here, despite the war that surrounded them, and it was absolutely jarring.

“And who’s this, Bail?” a familiar voice asked, and Leia turned with a start. Her hair was much more vibrant red, her face softer than she was used to, but Leia would have recognized Mon Mothma from anywhere.

“Senators, this is one of my nieces: Leia Antilles. She’ll be serving as one of my aides from now on,” her father introduced, and Leia realized there was another woman there. She was shorter than Mon, though her hair piece did not make it seem that way. A dress Leia recognized as Nubian was draped over her slight frame, and soft brown eyes studied her curiously. She had such a gentle look to her that for a brief moment, Leia was reminded  _ very  _ strongly of Luke.

“Leia, may I introduce Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrila, and Senator Padmé Amadala of Naboo.”

For a moment, Leia was star struck; her mother had told her many stories of the great queen turned senator, and many of those tales involved her political prowess and her cunning in battle. She had aspired to be like her when she entered politics, and she needed to force herself to focus and breathe as she inclined her head politely.

“It’s an honor to meet you, senators,” she managed to get out, and Padmé treated her to a kind smile.

“I look forward to working with you,” she said. “Our policies tend to line up, so we should be seeing each other often.”

She paused, glancing at something over Leia’s shoulder. A small smile came to her face before she turned her attention back to them.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, moving past them. Bail continued talking to Mon, but Leia kept her focus on Padmé, watching as she walked down the hall toward…

Leia felt her breath freeze in her chest. He was certainly younger, matching the images of him that were spread throughout the galaxy, instead of the decaying face that had been “horrifically scared” by the Jedi, as he claimed. Even if she had not recognized him, the official robes of state he wore would have made it obvious. She clenched her fists, fighting against the urge to  _ glare  _ at the future Emperor as Padmé approached him.

Wait… no, not  _ him. _

There was a young man standing next to Palpatine, though perhaps  _ towering  _ over the now Chancellor was a better description. With blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, Leia was once again strongly reminded of Luke. He was speaking softly with Palpatine as they stood outside the main council chamber, though he stopped as Padmé approached, a grin breaking out on his face. The three of them exchanged a few words, before Palpatine excused himself, entering the chamber and leaving Padmé and the young man together, talking softly; one would have to be  _ blind  _ not to see the two of them were both very happy to be in each other’s company.

“Do you recognize her?” Bail asked next to her, making Leia jump slightly. She glanced back, noticing that Mon had left, before she turned toward him.

“Yes,” Leia answered. “You and mother used to tell me stories about her.”

Bail was silent a moment, his gaze flicking over to Padmé as he rested a hand on Leia’s shoulder.

“I think she will be your mother,” he said. “You bare a strong resemblance to her.”

Leia snapped her head back toward the two of them, watching as Padmé pressed a hand to the young man’s chest. If she was supposed to be her mother, then…

“Who is he?” she asked, and Bail let out a curious noise.

“Jedi Knight and General Anakin Skywalker,” he answered, and Leia’s eyes widened, a hand going to her mouth to keep back the gasp of surprise that wanted to escape.

“No… no, she’s not  _ my  _ mother.”


	3. Chapter 3

_ He had gotten a ride back to Coruscant with Padmé once it was confirmed she had made a full recovery. Of course, he could have taken a military transport back, but he knew he would be bogged down with reports to both the Jedi Council and the Chancellor, and after not being there for her while she was sick, he would take  _ any _ opportunity to spend time with his wife. Taking the personal transport also meant he could hold her as much as he wanted in the time it would take to get them to the Core, and he  _ needed _ that closeness after such a close call. _

_ The expected meetings came and went, with the bonus of running into Padmé again while at the Senate building. Surprisingly, afterward he had actual  _ freetime _ , something he had not experienced in ages. With Padmé seeing to her senatorial duties, he found himself wandering to the 501st barracks, where they ship they had captured on Naboo was being held. A slow smile came to his face as he ran a hand over the sharp angles. This was a  _ nice _ ship, and he felt connected to it already, like he had been flying it for the past twenty years, long before even leaving Tatooine. _

_ He grinned to himself, making his mind up as he held a hand out, calling a hydrospanner to it and getting to work. _

…. but that was  _ not _ what had happened. 

Darth Vader sat in the pilot’s chair of the  _ Twilight _ , staring off into the swirl of hyperspace. “Anakin Skywalker” may have been dead to him, but his memories were always strong, a constant reminder of how he had been manipulated by the Jedi and Palpatine both, and everything he had lost when he finally grasped his destiny. Now, back in this time, those memories were being shifted, replaced with new ones influenced by his presence. He could still recall what had  _ actually _ happened, but it was difficult, like trying to remember a dream he had years ago.

They had already changed the past to the point it was altering their present. Vader could also remember how quickly the V-wings had been retired after the TIEs started full production not even a year after the War ended, with his own personal fighter as the base model. It brought the satisfaction of Rebel units struggling to compete with the faster fighters, but it was still a dangerous change. They needed to get his ship back and go back to their proper time, and his son needed to  _ understand _ that.

Even though part of him knew that Luke would fight against the suggestion; that same part quietly reminding him that his son was as stubborn as his mother.

His mother who was still alive…

Vader shook the thought off, forcing himself to focus on something else,  _ anything _ else. It was then he sensed his son, trying desperately to focus on the Force, only to dissolve into irritation. Curious, he left the cockpit, making his way to the crew quarters and trying to not be annoyed by how the walls of the ship seemed much smaller than he remembered.

Luke was sitting cross legged on one of the bunks, eyes closed, his brow furrowed as he tried desperately to concentrate. R2 — that  _ damn _ droid — was in a corner, recharging, but staying on low power to keep watch over him. R0-GR was folded up next to the other droid; without an active control ship in the area, the droid was forced to work on his back-up power, which was not much. He suspected Luke and R2 would fix that as soon as they could, and he could not help a small well of pride at his son for figuring out how to reprogram a B1 on his own.

“It’s even harder to focus with you standing there, you know,” Luke’s soft voice cut through Vader’s thoughts, bringing his focus back to him. He raised an eyebrow beneath his mask, folding his arms over his chest.

“You are having difficulties?” he asked.

Luke opened his eyes, looking reluctant to answer for a moment.

“The Force feels…  _ busy _ ,” he finally explained. “Almost like it’s too busy to answer any one person.”

Vader nodded at that, taking a step inside. R2’s head immediately swiveled toward him, beeping a low warning before popping his arc welder out, electricity crackling between the device’s prongs.

Admittedly, that was more of a threat than Vader would care to acknowledge aloud.

“ _ Artoo _ ,” Luke stressed, his tone admonishing. R2 let out a beep of protest, but at his son’s glare, reluctantly retracted the tool. The droid’s photoreceptor remained on him as Vader continued closer to his son, and he swore it seemed stuck on red as he carefully seated himself beside the younger man.

“There are many Jedi at this point in time,” he explained, carefully reaching for him. Luke still flinched at his touch, even though he allowed it, and flinched again when his presence in the Force brushed against his. “You had no need to learn how to filter out the sound of so many others.”

Vader reached for his son again through the Force, and he could feel his reluctance to respond all the more. Hesitantly, Luke finally reached back, his eyes falling closed as he focused, another reminder of how ill trained the boy was. His anger simmered at that — if  _ he _ had raised his son, he would have taught him better than this! — but he set it aside for now, instead showing him how to dampen the presence of so many active Force users, giving him a clearer path to the Force itself. Luke let out a soft sigh as he sank into it, wrapping it tight around himself like a blanket, before easing off, finally opening his eyes to peer at Vader curiously.

“No wonder no one could pick up on Palpatine,” he finally said. “With how…  _ loud _ the light is, it’s hard to hear anything that’s off key.”

He paused, a rueful look coming to his face. 

“Except you,” he added. “You’re loud enough to drown out the galaxy.”

A hidden smile stretched at the scars on Vader’s face.

“You give yourself too little credit, my son,” he pointed out. Luke flinched, but did not object. “I sensed you all the way from Naboo.”

Luke looked up curiously at that and Vader could tell he wanted to ask why he ended up at the Emperor’s homeworld, but he held himself back. Vader tilted his head curiously, part of him wondering if Kenobi ever bothered to tell him who his mother was and quickly concluding he had not. He knew his son well enough to know the boy would have attempted to make contact with his remaining family if he had known.

“Is that where we’re going?” he asked instead.

“Yes.” Vader answered. “If there’s a way back to our time we may find it there.”

Not that he had sensed anything when he had left, though perhaps with his son that could change. Luke seemed to sense his trepidation because he frowned, his nose wrinkling like Padmé’s would.

“I still think we should try and change things,” he replied, continuing quickly before Vader could tell him no. “I mean… don’t you want a chance to have never worn  _ that _ ?”

He motioned toward Vader, who knew what he meant. The suit, the armor, the machinery that kept him alive. Of course, he would have loved to be rid of it; even after twenty years it was suffocating in a way that words alone could not describe. But this was the way things were meant to be — he had always been destined to be “Vader”, just as his child was meant to fight and rule alongside him. They did not need to change the past for that to happen.

After a moment, Vader carefully stood, deciding this conversation was going in a direction he did not want to deal with.

“It is what was meant to be,” he stated with finality as he left. “Nothing can change that.”

He did not make his retreat fast enough though, as he heard a faint, sullen voice behind him:

“Yeah well,  _ I _ would have liked to see my father’s face.”

~.oOOo.~

There were only two things that could pull Anakin out of the moving meditation he would slip into while working on a ship: Obi-Wan’s sharp poking with the Force, and Padmé’s presence. He slipped out of it now as soon as he sensed her, grinning broadly as he popped his head out of the starfighter’s engine block. Night had fallen who even knew how many hours ago, but he could still see her coming closer despite the dark cloak she was wearing. He did not sense anyone nearby, and therefore had no issue sweeping Padmé up into his arms and into a tight hug. She laughed softly, squeezing him back.

“Rex said you were still out here,” she said, smiling up at him before peering around him at the ship. “It… looks almost brand new.”

Anakin beamed at the praise.

“It’s been really easy to work on,” he replied. “I almost feel like I’ve done it hundreds of times before.”

He knew Padmé understood the Force a little better than most outsiders, if only because of him and the many Jedi she worked with in the past. This baffled her however, and he could not blame her: he did not understand it either.

“There’s something I want you to see,” he said, and at her nod he pulled her close as he used the Force to leap up to the top of the starfighter. He let go of her once their footing was secure, opening the hatch and sliding inside before helping her in after him. It was a bit of a tight fit for the both of them, though once Anakin was seated in the pilot’s chair there was slightly more room for Padmé to stand behind his chair.

“Look at this dial coding,” he pointed out, motioning to some of the screens showing minimal information while the system was in standby. “Look familiar?”

Padmé paused, leaning over his shoulder as she squinted of the main panel.

“Isn’t that… Republic format?” she asked.

“The numbering is  _ very _ off, but yeah,” Anakin answered, reaching out to flip a few switches but still getting no response from the panel. He frowned; he had not found anything wrong with the engine, but….

“Is there any way to get more information?” Padmé asked, but Anakin shook his head bitterly.

“Not unless I can get the system start-”

He cut himself off and Padmé let out a yelp as a low hum suddenly  _ thrummed _ around them. The main panel came to life and the ship shifted as the fighter started to hover, forcing Padmé to clutch at his seat.

“A-Anakin, why is this thing voice printed to you?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly as Anakin frowned at the display before him, now littered with information.

“It’s not a voice print, it’s a voice pattern,” he answered finally. “Someone programmed this thing to recognize how I talk, rather than what I sound like.”

“Who would do that?”

Anakin fell silent again, his eyes settling on the main display, holding a welcome message as well as the ship’s make and model.

“‘Kuat Drive Yard Imperial starfighter TIE Advanced X-One. Welcome, Lord Vader’,” he finally read aloud, glancing back at his wife. “Guess this Lord Vader talks like I do.”

Padmé did not reply, and he did not need to look back at her to know she had a worried look on her face. He reached out to her through the Force, trying his best to reassure her even though he had his own concerns. Voice patterning was a terrible way to lock down a ship but he could guess why; Kix had mentioned the Sith Lord wore a breath mask. It was possible his voice could not be printed because of the vocoder.

He let out a breath, glancing around the displays. Everything was syncing up to local relays without issue, though anything showing the local date and time was coming up with errors. It was probably set to a calendar system that Republic did not recognize, nevermind everything else seemed to be Republic compatible. Curious, he grabbed the flight controls, giving it a gentle nudge. The craft glided forward so smoothly it took him a moment to realize they moved.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked.

“Anakin... “ Padmé warned, almost sounding like Obi-Wan. She was reaching for the hatch though, pulling it closed as Anakin found the com relay.

“Coruscant Air Traffic Control, this is General Skywalker,” he announced. “I’m taking a captured enemy craft out for a test. Please relay to all police and home fleet stations.”

There was a pause, interrupted by the sound of Padmé shuffling behind him, wedging herself comfortably in the space behind him.

“General Skywalker, this is Coruscant Air Traffic Control,” a voice finally answered. “All authorities have been notified of your request and emergency crews have been put on notice. Safe skies.”

Anakin glared at the com like it had personally offended him as Padmé let out a laugh.

“I crash a speeder  _ one time _ …” he grumbled.

“But it wasn’t just the one time,” Padmé reminded him coyly, planting a kiss on his cheek as she did so. He shot her a rueful look, before opening the throttle and shooting forward.

Two things became apparent very quickly: one, the ship was probably the fastest ship he had flown in atmosphere, and two, it had the most delicate controls he had ever touched. You  _ had _ to be Force Sensitive to fly this thing, and Anakin realized very quickly that he had a permanent grin stuck to his face as he allowed himself to sink into the Force,  _ feeling _ every movement he made as he made it, and well aware of Padmé’s heart beating rapidly behind him.

“You still alright back there?” he asked, keeping his eyes forward as he gently guided the ship through its paces.

“I’m okay,” Padmé answered close to his ear, sounding breathless. “I can’t believe a fighter this big can fly this fast.”

“You want to know why the tail’s so big?” Anakin asked, angling for space.

“Why?”

“It’s equipped with a hyperdrive.”

Anakin felt Padmé’s head whip around, as if she could see through to the engine block.

“How?”

“No idea, but I’m not going to test it this flight,” Anakin replied as he broke through the atmosphere, the sky around them exploding with stars. The ship glided through space, cutting through the darkness like a knife. He felt Padmé’s hand on his arm, holding onto him tight as they looped around a command ship, sending an ‘all clear, fair skies’ signal as he did so.

The com started beeping a few seconds later.

“That’s either Admiral Yularen or Obi-Wan,” he commented.

“Probably Obi-Wan.”

Padmé was right, as always.

“Anakin,  _ what _ do you think you’re doing?” Obi-Wan’s tired voice came over the speaker the moment he accepted the call.

“Nothing much, master,” Anakin replied casually. “Just taking my new starfighter out for a test flight.”

“You’re new—” Obi-Wan began before breaking off with a frustrated noise. “Anakin, you can’t just claim ownership of whatever enemy craft you choose. And  _ why _ am I reading two life forms aboard?”

Anakin grabbed the toggle switch for the com, jiggling it.

“Oh what was that, master?” he asked, “You’re breaking up.”

“Anaki—”

He cut the transmission before Obi-Wan could go into full lecture mode. Padmé was shaking her head, and he was met with a reprimanding look when he glanced back at her.

“What?” he asked innocently before angling the ship back for the planet. “Look, it’ll be fine. Obi-Wan just doesn’t know how to have fun.”

“I’m sure he does, he just doesn’t define it the same way,” Padmé murmured, but Anakin’s mind was already going off on what he was going to do with his new ship. He did not mind the black and grey, but it was too plain. Maybe he would paint it blue and white; 501st colors would totally be appropriate.

All too soon they were landing back at the base. with Anakin taking a moment to figure out how to shut it down. He helped Padmé out first, bracing her with the Force as she climbed out of the hatch, before jumping out himself. A million and one plans were running through his head as to what he would do with the ship, but they stopped cold when he felt Padmé’s hand on his arm.

“Would you kindly escort me back to my apartment, Jedi Skywalker?”

Something about the  _ way _ she said that made Anakin’s cheeks feel warm, a slow, lopsided grin coming to his face.

“Of course, my lady senator,” he replied, offering her his arm.

~.oOOo.~

_ “Henceforth, you shall be known as Darth Vader.” _

Vader.

_ He had always known that name would come to mean something to him. It was as much his destiny as having the ship that bore the name. It did not even occur to him that he was a replacement, and even if it had, it did not matter.  _ He  _ was Lord Vader. _

_ And he was about to fulfill his destiny. _

~.oOOo.~

Her father was too polite to say anything, but Leia could not help but notice Senator Amidala had a certain…  _ glow  _ about her. Of course, she was too professional to say anything herself, but she could not help but be reminded of overenthusiastic Rebels after the Battle of Yavin, celebrating in their own way in semi-private. Padmé had that same kind of  _ feeling  _ to her glow, and an absent part of her mind could not help but wonder if Luke was conceived last night.

_ No, the timeline doesn’t match up,  _ she admonished herself.  _ Also, Luke would be mortified if he knew I was thinking about this. _

Still, it was hard for her to concentrate on what Mon, Padmé, and Bail were talking about. It was important that she did and she knew it; her father was trying to gauge if he could trust the two senators with the truth about her. Leia trusted Mon implicitly, and Padmé… well, if she was like her son, then she could trust her as well, which was probably why it was so hard to focus on them.

No, her thoughts kept drifting back to Luke, and a report she had spied about unusual activity at Serenno. Something about a Republic-like ship that had gone down, but it was not from the Republic, and no other information could be found on the ship. X-wings  _ did  _ bear a strong resemblance to the starfighters she had seen taking off from the clone army base, so maybe Luke had crashed there.

And if Luke had gone back in time as well, then…

“So, to lighter discussions,” Mon suddenly said, bringing Leia back to the present. “I’ve heard General Skywalker has a new ‘toy’.”

Padmé laughed softly at Mon’s choice of words, and Leia did not miss the faint blush on her face.

“Much to his master’s consternation, yes,” Padmé replied. “It’s the ship the Sith Lord crashed on Naboo. He’s taken quite a liking to it.”

“Anakin Skywalker, liking a ship. I’m shocked,” Bail said dryly, setting that afternoon’s work aside for now. Leia glanced at him, seeing how tired and worn he was, and got up to prepare tea for the senators.

“It’s the strangest thing, though,” Padmé continued. “All the electronics inside were configured for Republic relay stations, but the computer called it an ‘Imperial’ starfighter.”

Leia almost dropped the teapot as she filled it with water. Of course he followed her back in time. Of  _ course  _ he did.

“That is strange,” Bail replied, glancing at her in concern. “Did he learn anything about this Sith Lord?”

“I think he was too busy ‘test flying’ the ship,” she admitted, and something about the way she said that had Leia fighting against a  _ grin.  _ Did they…? In the…? Oh, she wanted to see Vader’s face if he ever found out… from a safe distance, of course.

The conversation drifted on to another topic as she finished preparing the tea, handing the cups out once it was done. Padmé thanked her, a small smile on her face as she idly stirred the liquid inside.

“Well, fancy new starfighter or no, I don’t believe it will do much to turn the tide of war,” Mon continued. “I hate to say it, but this fight is one I’m afraid we won’t win, even if we emerge victorious.”

Bail paused, taking a glance at Leia, but she shook her head slightly. No, not yet.

“I hate to agree, but I fear you’re right,” Padmé replied. “I can’t help but feel like we’re being strung along at times.

Leia felt Bail’s eyes on her again, and she nodded slightly. Now was as good of a time as any.

“What if…” she began, slowly setting down her tea. “What if there  _ was  _ someone manipulating the whole war? Both sides of it.”

“Leia, that’s ridiculous,” Bail replied, giving her a look that was all for show, but it had the desired effect. Neither senator had really noticed the admonishment, both caught up in the terrifying idea that Leia’s suggestion  _ could be  _ true.

“Senators, I’m afraid I must conclude our business today,” Bail announced after a moment, giving the women time to stew in their thought as they finished their tea. “I will be leaving again for Alderaan in a few days. You’re both welcome to accompany me, if you would like to step away from the Senate for a short time.”

“Thank you, Bail,” Mon said as she stood. “I will certainly consider it.”

Goodbyes were said, and the two women left. Bail and Leia were silent a moment, before they glanced at each other. Worry passed between them, knowing they would have their hands full observing the two of them in the coming days.

~.oOOo.~

Luke sensed something was going to go wrong the moment they emerged from hyperspace, and he was halfway to joining Vader in the cockpit when he heard a voice flood over the com.

“Pilot, you are flying a vessel reported as stolen. Power down and prepare to be boarded.”

Luke fought against the urge to swear as he felt the freighter accelerate to attack speed. He suspected Vader had stolen the ship — admittedly, he might have done the same — but why did he not take some  _ precautions  _ before coming back here?!

The ship shook as he stumbled into the cockpit, and Luke had to grab onto the weapon’s periscope to keep from falling over.

“Why didn’t you change the ships transponder?” he asked, trying to keep the accusatory tone out of his voice. Vader was silent, seemingly focused on out maneuvering the Republic ships outside, but his silence carried a weight to it that made Luke think. Vader was smart enough and savvy enough to know he would have needed to change the transponder, which meant he had not  _ wanted  _ to. Given how Vader reacting to  _ him,  _ that meant…

“Did… did you steal this ship from yourse—”

“I suggest,” Vader interrupted him, “you get on the weapons, unless you would like to find out what Republic prisons are like.”

“I won’t fire on Republic troops,” Luke replied sullenly, but he was moving to get a better hold on the weapon’s periscope anyway… until he was shoved away from it.

“Then  _ I  _ will,” Asajj said, grasping the handles of the periscope.  _ “You  _ copilot.”

Luke swore he heard Vader growl something like, “hairless harpy,” but another shudder through the ship reminded him that they could not spare the time to argue. He vaulted himself into the seat beside Vader, angling the deflector shields to better cover their rear, before keying the interior com.

“Artoo, get up here to help with navigation!”

A trill of acknowledgement answered him before he turned his focus back to helping control the ship.

“I do  _ not  _ need  _ that _ droid to navigate,” Vader snarled unkindly, and Luke tossed him a bitter look, before glancing down at the main console.

“We’ll be space dust by the time this navicomputer calculates a jump to lightspeed on its own,” he pointed out. “Besides, Artoo’s saved my neck from  _ you  _ more times than I can count.”

Vader had nothing to say to that, though the steady rhythm of his breathing sounded  _ annoyed,  _ especially as R2 rolled in, whistling to himself. As soon as the little astrodroid plugged into the auxiliary panel behind them, the computer immediately started spitting out data faster than before. It was not long before the computer let out a positive chime, with R2 whistling an all clear a moment later. Luke and Vader grabbed their respective levers, pulling back as one and escaping into hyperspace.

Luke let out a breath, relaxing back in his seat, though his relief was short lived. He heard a gagging noise behind him, and he sprang back up to see Vader had stood, a hand outstretched toward Asajj.

“Wait, don’t!” Luke protested, jumping to his feet as Asajj clawed uselessly at her throat. Without thinking, he reached up, grabbing Vader’s arm and trying to pull it down. He may as well have been trying to bend doonium with his bare hands. This was not going to work, so he did the only thing he knew would get the Dark Lord’s attention.

“Father,  _ stop!” _

Vader’s arm immediately dropped, and Asajj collapsed onto the deck, gasping in lungfuls of air. Luke turned toward her, making sure she was okay, before snapping his gaze back to Vader to see his attention was on him. He felt part of him twitch under that gaze, wanting to shrink back, but he stood his ground regardless.

“She saved my life.”

“She has and will kill countless others,” Vader replied stubbornly.

“Like you?” Luke shot back, just as stubborn, and Vader had no reply for him once again. He continued to stare at him for a long moment, before he finally relented, folding his arms over his chest. Asajj, meanwhile, shakily got back to her feet, holding onto the periscope as she did so.

“If you two are done,” she growled, a hand going to her throat for a moment. Luke went to her side, checking again to make sure she was okay, and to offer a hand if she needed it, though she did not take it.

“Why did you follow us?” he asked. Asajj peered at him, her gaze flicking to Vader a moment, before returning to him.

“After what you said, I decided continuing with Dooku would be bad for my health,” she answered, almost dismissively. “You were the best means of transport off the planet.”

Luke smiled faintly, though that smile disappeared when he felt Vader  _ looming  _ over him.

“What did you say?” he demanded, frost hissing from his respirator. Luke turned, keeping himself between Asajj and the Dark Lord.

“Dooku was in a call with Emperor Palpatine,” he answered, surprised at his own ability to remain calm. “I called him out on it.”

Vader, by contrast, was anything  _ but  _ calm.

“He is  _ not  _ Emperor yet,” he snapped in reminder.

“And maybe he never should be!”

Vader practically growled, clearly refusing to attempt breaching that discussion again. He pushed past the two of them, storming out of the cockpit, though neither relaxed until the door closed behind him. R2 let out a low, mournful whistle and Asajj shifted, and Luke realized she had grabbed his arm when Vader moved past them, as she released him a moment after the door closed.

“Is…  _ that thing  _ really Anakin Skywalker?” she asked softly.

Luke paused, looking around the interior of the cockpit. The ship reminded him of the  _ Millennium Falcon;  _ old and beat up, but so well loved that it felt like home. As much as he ragged on Han for the  _ Falcon  _ being a hunk of junk, it  _ was  _ where he would go to sleep in those early days with the Alliance, when homesickness made it impossible for him to rest.

Clearly, his father had similar kind of attachments.

“Yeah…” he finally admitted softly. “Yeah, he is.”


End file.
